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Loving Ben
    MEG GRANT STEPPED out of the shower and briskly dried her hair. Done, she looked into the mirror and frowned at her tumble of dusky curls, dark eyes, and short stature. Not Ben’s type, huh? We’ll see about that. Today!
    She had been in love with Ben Cameron for almost as long as she’d known him, but Ben was her big brother CJ’s best friend and five years her senior. While she was still a kid, he was an adult.
    She and Ben had become friends when Ben bought a classic, old Mustang and parked it in CJ’s auto shop where he could restore it in his free time, between college and a part-time job. From the battered desk in the corner where Meg had gotten into the habit of doing her homework, she’d watched him work. Besides his skill at restoration, everything fascinated her about the tall, blond man with the big smile who talked to her as if she were his peer.
    Sometimes, she would catch Ben watching her, too, with an indecipherable look in his sky blue eyes. She’d become familiar with the tingling vibe that filled the air between them whenever their eyes met, and she’d hold her breath until he looked away.
    CJ claimed Ben was into tall, blue-eyed blonds, and Meg had to admit, she’d never seen Ben with anyone who didn’t fit that description. But short and dark could be just as desirable, and tonight she was going to prove it. Today was her eighteenth birthday. Today she was a woman. A woman on a mission. And her mission was to prove CJ wrong.
    Meg pulled the towel around her and headed to her bedroom. Laid out across her bed was a brand new pair of sparkly sandals and the dress she’d bought specifically to catch Ben’s attention. A strapless sundress with a scooped neckline meant to entice. Meant to make sure Ben knew she was old enough to know what she wanted. And that what she wanted was him.
    She picked up her hair dryer and turned it on. With firm, even strokes, she brushed the tangles and frizz into a shining curtain. She couldn’t change her eyes and wasn’t sure she wanted to go so far as to change the color of her hair, but she could make it straight and silky. She left just a few come-hither curls to frame her face and then moved on to the makeup.
    Another challenge. She wasn’t into makeup and didn’t have a lot of practice, but tonight was special. Besides, every single one of those leggy blonds that CJ pointed out as Ben-types had worn plenty of the stuff. Meg had to be careful, though. Too much and she’d look like a caricature. A little mascara would make her eyes seem bigger and her lashes sexier. She definitely needed sexier. She added a hint of shimmery liner and a touch of pink for her lips. She studied the effect and thought again of Ben. And his type.
    A week ago, a woman Meg had never met had come into CJ’s garage looking for Ben. She could have been a runway model with those silky, ash-colored tresses clear down to her butt, shorts that highlighted impossibly long legs, and pouty, bright red lips. Ben had come in a few minutes later, spoken briefly to the woman, but then sent her on her way before hurrying to screw the new license plate onto the Mustang he’d spent so many years laboring over. And it had been Meg he’d invited to share the first ride in his pride and joy.
    She had teased him about it. With her heart hammering anxiously, she’d asked him why he hadn’t invited his “girlfriend” to go for a ride instead. Ben had told her friends came first. She’d enjoyed the ride and every moment spent in Ben’s company, but hanging over her enjoyment was the possibility that CJ was right. Short and dark were not Ben’s type. Ben hadn’t refuted Meg’s assumption that the blond was his girlfriend.
    Meg had tried flirting with Ben, but it had never gained her more than just a smile. Appreciative smiles at times. She had a nice body, and she had noticed Ben checking her out more than once, but he’d never given her any reason to hope that their relationship